Suilad, everyone! Thanks for taking the time to review, chocolate elfies for all.
Special thanks to Nemis, for helping me with my atrocious Sindarin ;)
Kalurien
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Imladris Revisited
By: DLR 2002
Disclaimer: Most characters owned by JRR Tolkien
Elrond/OFC
Rated: PG
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The Third Age of Middle-earth Year 3018
Sixty-five years later
Late Fall
Chapter 22
They had ridden their horses too hard. The animals were foamy, their sides heaving.
"Almost there," the first rider said, struggling to hold up the limp body of another who sat before him in the saddle. The second rider nodded, acknowledging the reassurance.
"You have never been here?" asked the first rider. The second rider shook his head again, although in a negative fashion, this time. "I have had very few meetings with elves until just recently."
They crossed a shallow ford and began a descent into a valley. The night was dark with no moon or stars and the narrow path was treacherous.
They were challenged at one point by a sharp voice in the shadows. The first rider spoke in a tongue his companion did not understand. A lantern was uncovered and they could see some thirty elven archers before them, arrows pointed directly at their heads. Words were spoken and the archers parted to allow the horsemen through.
At the bottom of the valley they reached another checkpoint. The first rider pulled back his hood and waited.
"Estel!" cried the tall elf that appeared. He spoke rapidly to the first rider, who responded. The second rider tried to understand what was said by reading their tone and expression, with little success.
More elves approached, voicing exclamations of great anguish as they took the unconscious person out of the saddle. Estel, who was known to his companion as Aragorn, beckoned him forward with a wave.
"This is Halbarad," Aragorn said to the elf, "he is one of my kin."
"Welcome," the elf said, stepping forward. He spoke in Westron, the common tongue, somewhat slowly. "I am Arminas, captain of the lower gate of Rivendell."
Halbarad dismounted and took the hand offered to him. "Thank you."
Arminas turned to Aragorn. "What happened to Elrohir?"
"Badly wounded," replied Aragorn, "but these tidings should be told to his father first."
Arminas bowed and indicated they should pass.
Aragorn led the way to the Hall of Healing. Halbarad followed, gazing around at the great house in awe. They entered a room lined with shelves upon which were stored many books and a great many more jars of various shapes and sizes.
Halbarad saw several elves standing around a table where Elrohir was lying. A tall, slender elf with long black hair looked up as they approached; his deep grey eyes the color of storm clouds.
"I randir tol bar, suilad,* Estel," he said. " Speak to me."
Aragorn approached him while Halbarad slipped to the side.
"We were attacked at Sarn Ford,"* Aragorn said. The tall elf waited silently. "Nazgûl," he whispered.
"Go on," said the elf, a visible shudder passing through his body.
"Six were able to cross the ford and we left the Dúnedain on the other side to worry for them. We dealt with the three who remained on the side with us. They eventually turned east and we pursued them for several days. At one point the rearmost rider turned in his saddle and threw his knife."
Aragorn brought out an object wrapped in cloth. "This is the hilt." He laid it on the table.
The elf unwrapped the cloth and studied the object. "Certain counter spells may prove effective," he muttered. He looked toward Elrohir. "Why was he not wearing a mail shirt of some kind?"
Aragorn shook his head. "I know not."
The elf looked up and spoke words of instruction to an elven female who stood nearby. Her green eyes were wide with concern for the injured person. She began to gather ingredients from the shelves.
The door opened suddenly and Halbarad saw another female come into the room. She was greatly distressed as she rushed to the table, weeping over Elrohir's inanimate form.
Halbarad could not follow any of the conversation for they continued to speakin their own tongue of which he knew very little.
Aragorn went to comfort the black-haired female who wept at the table. The tall elf gave them a dark look before he returned his attention to his patient. He uncovered the injury, which was in the shoulder. He took a knife and reopened the wound, as it had closed over.
He took the bowl that the green-eyed female handed him and began to wash the injury with the liquid.
Suddenly, Elrohir gave a great shudder then lay still. Those around him gasped, their hands moving to cover their mouths.
"No," said the tall elf quietly, quickly passing his hands over the other's body while saying words in elvish. He paused and listened to Elrohir's chest.
"No!" he said with more strength, his teeth clenched. "Ú gwann, ú gwann!"* He made his hands into a great fist and brought it forcefully down onto Elrohir's heart. He repeated this several times, all the while speaking words in elvish.
Elrohir gave a sudden cough and gasped, his chest moving once again. Everyone in the room breathed a great sigh of relief.
The tall elf sat with his face in his hands for a few moments, saying nothing. The green-eyed female put her hand on his shoulder in a gesture of comfort. He collected himself and continued to clean the wound. He searched through it with his fingers, applying the cleansing liquid.
The dark-haired female, sitting with Aragorn, looked as though she might faint.
At last he found what he was looking for, a small piece of imbedded metal. He left the green-eyed female to finish cleaning and stitching the wound and he turned his attention back to Aragorn.
"Where is Elladan?"
"Still following them," Aragorn responded. "He and several others." Aragorn saw Halbarad, sitting quietly, waiting. He switched his speech to Westron.
"Here with us is a man of my kin," said he. Allow me to present Halbarad, son of Halmor."
Halbarad stood. The tall elf approached him, taking his hand. "Forgive me," he said in the common tongue. "I am not usually so rude to guests. Welcome to Rivendell, Halbarad, I am Elrond."
"Thank-you, Lord," said Halbarad. "Please do not apologize, these are trying circumstances."
Suddenly there was a shriek behind them and they turned. The green-eyed female uttered a string of comments, clutching her hand.
"I do not understand this language," said Halbarad, smiling, "but even I can tell oaths when I hear them."
Elrond stepped over to her, looking at her hand. "By the way," he said to her in Sindarin, "do not touch the hilt of that knife. It will burn you."
She looked at him darkly and moved to apply a salve to her hand.
Aragorn had translated this last exchange for Halbarad. "I do not understand," he said. "You and I both handled the hilt with no ill effects."
"Morgul knives are far more deadly to the Eldar than they are to the Edain,"* said Elrond, returning to them. "Although the blade is no more, the hilt holds much evil still."
He looked around. "Arwen, Culurien," he said. "Come and meet Estel's guest." He paused as they joined him. "This is Halbarad, Dúnadan, kinsman to Estel. My daughter, Lady Arwen. My betrothed, Lady Culurien." They respectively bowed or curtsied. "Lady Culurien speaks very little of your tongue."
"More than you realize," she said slowly.
Elrond was surprised. "Where did you learn that?"
She smiled. "Bilbo has been teaching me."
Halbarad had been gazing at them in wonder. He was unable to accustom himself to this concept of immortality. Arwen and Elrohir looked only a little younger than Elrond, who looked about the same age as Aragorn, who had told him earlier that they were all many thousands of years old, especially Elrond.
He felt light-headed suddenly and put out his hand to steady himself, but there was nothing there and he stumbled. Aragorn caught him before he could fall.
"What is it?" asked Elrond quickly. "Hunger?"
"Possibly," agreed Aragorn, helping Halbarad to a chair. "More likely Black Breath."
Elrond went to the kettle and ladled into two mugs the liquid that Culurien had made earlier. "Drink please," he said, handing them to Halbarad and Aragorn. Halbarad took a cautious sip. He immediately felt stronger, refreshed and his weariness began to fall away.
Elrond sat on his heels in front of him. "Look at me," he instructed. Halbarad looked. Elrond put his hand on Halbarad's head and whispered something unintelligible. His dark grey eyes were mesmerizing. He broke the stare and turned towards his foster son. "What of you, Estel?"
"I am fine," replied Aragorn. Halbarad was in much closer contact than I."
Elrond seemed satisfied. "I suggest we go to the kitchens and find you something to eat."
Culurien sat down. "I will stay with Elrohir."
Elrond nodded. "And you, Arwen?"
"I will accompany you, Adar," she said, her eyes pleading.
"As you wish."
The hallways were only dimly lit as they made their way to the kitchens. Halbarad was glad he did not have to find his own way, as the house was vast with many corridors branching off on both sides.
The main room of the kitchen was enormous, filled with many fireplaces, ovens, shelves and cabinets.
An elf sitting at a table stood as they entered.
"Caladir," said Elrond, surprised. "You keep late hours tonight. Have you any problems?"
"Only ledgers," replied Caladir with a grimace, referring to the record books in front of him.
"Do not strain yourself with concern of them," Elrond advised his kitchen master.
"So you say now, Lord," responded Caladir dryly. "Differently you will feel at the end of the month when you review them."
Elrond smiled. "You are not suggesting, I hope, that I nit-pick at you?"
"Not at all, Lord," said Caladir quickly, smiling back.
"I am relieved," said Elrond. "I do not want a reputation as a difficult task-master."
Caladir and Aragorn exchanged a quick look, hiding grins. "What can I do for you, Lord?"
"We are hungry," said Elrond, simply.
"Sit down, sit down, I will find you something."
Quick as a flash he laid before them bread and honey, cheese, several cold meats, fruit and wine.
Aragorn and Halbarad wasted no time helping themselves to the food and eating hungrily.
Elrond poured some wine and took an apple, peeling it in silence. Arwen sat quietly, unable to take her eyes off of Aragorn.
He paused in chewing long enough to make a comment. "At least four Rangers were killed at the ford."
Elrond looked grim. "Any news of the hobbit?"
"Nothing," said Aragorn. "No rumor of him at all."
"I pray to Eru he has already left the Shire. You must return to Bree at once and try to intercept him. What news of Gandalf?"
"Nothing," Aragorn repeated.
Elrond frowned. "This does not bode well. He distinctly told me that he would be in the Shire by mid September to guide Frodo Baggins."
"Yes, indeed," agreed Aragorn. "This is very unlike him."
Caladir had been listening to them quietly. "Are we going to war, Lord?"
"War is likely," said Elrond. "Very soon, in fact, but nay, you and I will not march to it, lest you feel some need, for our days in Middle-earth are waning. What strength we have left will be used in defense, if necessary. The responsibility for the lives of free people will fall on other shoulders." He did not look at Aragorn.
Aragorn, however, studied Elrond. "My time approaches. You need not concern yourself for me, for I will not shirk from my duty."
"No, indeed," said Elrond, looking up, surprised. "I have no fear on that account, bravery you have in abundance, and wisdom also you have learned these past years."
"What do you fear, then?"
Elrond paused. "If Sauron should regain that which was lost, then few shall have the strength to withstand his might. Soon, hopefully, we will have it in our keeping. The decision we make then will affect all of Middle-earth." He sighed. "Those that are chosen to walk this path will bear a heavy burden, perhaps unbearable for some. These are the shoulders of which I spoke. Your path will lead down a different road."
Halbarad stopped eating. "You can foresee the future?"
"Somewhat," Elrond admitted. "Although changing events cause much cloudiness in this instance. I can clearly see the path to be taken and I can foretell much of what will happen on that road, but the final outcome? That is hazier as most hearts are yet untested."
They finished the meal. "Take fresh horses, please," said Elrond. "Wake the stable master for you have been away long and will not know which ones understand Quenya and which understand Sindarin, for we have both now. If you speak Sindarin to the wrong horses they will most likely throw you."
Aragorn nodded his head seriously. Halbarad looked at Elrond, then at Aragorn, then back to Elrond again, but he made no comment.
Elrond and Arwen said goodbye to them at the kitchen door that led to the outside.
"Tir aen Eru Ilúvatar or le,"* Elrond said to Aragorn, embracing him. To Halbarad he offered his hand. "A blessing on thee, Dúnadan."
Aragorn and Arwen gazed in silence at each other. He took her hand and kissed it, being careful not to look at Elrond. He and his companion then left through the garden, down to the stables.
Elrond put his arm around his daughter and they walked silently back into the house.
When he re-entered the Hall of Healing it was quite dim, the fire having burned low. Culurien had pulled up a soft chair next to Elrohir and was curled up in it, asleep.
Elrond tended the fire, then crossed to his sleeping son and opened his eyelids with his fingers, studying them. He then sat on the arm of the chair, with his hand on Culurien's head. She stirred, looking up to greet him with a touch to his face. "Mellhîr,"*
"How does it go?"
"He sleeps peacefully."
"As do you," Elrond said with a smile.
She made room for him in the chair and they sat with their arms around each other, dozing for the rest of the night.
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*The wanderer comes home, greetings
*Canon implies that Aragorn was not present at the attack, but I like him there, bite me.
*Not dead
*Author's note: Because I said so ;)
*May the Creator watch over thee
*Dearest Lord, or Lordly lover, whichever you want.